


"SOLD"

by LT_Aldo_Raine



Series: Family Reunions [1]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Moving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 10:20:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14423322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LT_Aldo_Raine/pseuds/LT_Aldo_Raine
Summary: “Its alright,” Lew replied with a shrug.“There's a backyard..." Dick added, "-big enough for a dog.”“Well, in that case."OR: A prequel to "Welcome Back" in which Dick convinces Lew to move to the suburbs.





	"SOLD"

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to miss_grey for the inspiration (and distraction from work!). 
> 
> Enjoy, folks!

They had agreed to this dinner weeks ago, and though Lew was bemoaning the long drive out to the suburbs, he was more than happy to make the trip to see his friends. Hell, he'd even shaved for the occasion, something which had not gone unnoticed by Dick judging by the slightly amused uptick in the redhead's lips. 

“We'd better go,” said Dick, pointedly checking his wrist watch in a manner that to anyone else would have seemed casual. But Lew knew it meant that Dick's anal-retentiveness and control issues were starting to fray on his nerves. Rolling his eyes with a grin, Lew finished shoving his foot into his shoe and muttered, “You see me, don't you? I'm coming. Its not like we won't be twenty minutes early, anyway.”

And they were. Well, they were ten minutes early, but Lew's sentiment stood. When they arrived, Ron answered the door with a finger on his lip, causing Lew to groan. “Oh, God, please tell me this isn't some sort of game night deal. Unless there's booze and poker involved, I'm out.” 

Smirking, Ron motioned for his guests to come in and explained, “Car's just gotten Cora to sleep. She's in her playpen in the living room.”

As they shrugged off their coats, Dick politely asked all the questions that a friend of new parents should ask.  _How is she doing? Is she sleeping through the night? Are you two sleeping at all? Did you try that new formula? When's the next visit from the adoption agency?_ Lew listened, interested but unfussed about the daily trappings of parenthood. He was delighted for his friends that the adoption had finally come through. It had been a long eleven months for Carwood and Ron, but now, it was finally official—and he couldn't be happier for their little family. 

But, ya know, happy at a safe distant, away from dirty diapers and baby drool.

The meal itself was a fine affair.

Ron had grilled up some salmon, which Carwood prepared over a bed of wild rice with baby asparagus and wild mushrooms. They paired the fish with a pinot noir that Dick and Lew had brought, an aged bottle from Stanhope's personal collection. As they enjoyed their meal, the men chatted in the way that old friends do, swapping current news— _Did you hear about Harry's promotion?_ —, making summer plans— _Let's skip the Cape this year. We haven't been out west in a while._ —, and dragging up old legends from their mutual pasts— _I still can't believe Guarnere wasn't arrest. Oh! Remember when..._ And all the while, they laughed.

Baby Cora awoke halfway through the dessert, alerting the men with a soft but persistent cry. As Carwood and Ron responded to the infant's gentle bawling, Dick and Lew excused themselves to give the new parents some privacy. Donning their coats, the pair took a casual, early evening stroll around the sleepy, suburban neighborhood.

The men walked hand-in-hand, fingers tenderly curled together, their shoulders brushing, sides pressed together to fight off the September chill. It was a lovely evening, the slowly setting sun painting the houses and trees in a delicate haze of warm colors.

“This is a nice place they've found,” Lew muttered as he admired the charming beauty of it all.

“It is,” Dick agreed, giving Lew's hand a squeeze. “I like the quiet.”

A smile tugged at Lew's lips. “Yeah, it is kind of quiet, isn't it? And peaceful. Reminds me of that little village we stayed at in Austria, near the Alps, you remember?”

Dick grinned, quickly. “I remember.”

Lew's gaze turned abruptly wistful as he was awash in memories of their first summer abroad together. That was the summer he fell in love with Dick. It was also the summer he called off his engagement to Katherine, breaking her heart and nearly being disowned by his own family. He had done it all so that he could tell Dick how he felt.

That summer, Lew had taken the biggest risk of his life, and he hadn't regretted it for a moment since.

“You know,” mumbled Lew, warm and content. “I could do it, I could settle down in a place like this. Whatta ya think, Dick? Get a house with a fence. Maybe raise a few kids—well, maybe not kids. No doubt that you would be a great father, but maybe we should start with a dog first.”

Dick's reply came easy. “Sure, Lew. Let's do it.”

The sun had disappeared behind the rows of houses, and the pair had made it two blocks down the street. They came to a casual stop in front of a house with a little red and white “SOLD” sign in the yard. Rather, Dick came to a casual stop and tugged Lew to a halt beside him. He motioned the two story, brick home, and asked, “Do you like it?”

Lew pondered the home before them. There was a nice size front porch, big enough for a swing or some rocking chairs—things that would remind Dick of his family's farm. The colors went nicely together, the white trimmings and blue shutters and red door. It was a cute, little house with a decent front yard and a long driveway, basketball hoop included. All that was missing was the picket fence.

“Its alright,” he replied with a shrug.

“There's a backyard...big enough for a dog.”

“Well, in that case,” said Lew with a chuckle. Only, Dick wasn't grinning at the joke, and as Lew's eyes caught sight of the “SOLD” sign again, Lew felt his brow furrow. “How do you know there's a big backyard?”

“Because I bought it.”

A bark of a laugh escaped Lew. “Yeah, right.” He looked back at the towering house with its tall windows and neat lawn. Suddenly, he could picture it. Sunday mornings with Dick reading the paper and drinking coffee on the porch. A dog—maybe a Shepard, maybe a Collie—chasing a tennis ball through the grass. Playing basketball in the driveway with Ron and Carwood on Saturday mornings. And inside, their things, old and new, laid out across the new space to create a home just for them. Lew swallowed at the rush of emotions and images, turning to Dick to declare, “Are you serious?”

Dick, still clutching Lew's hand, gave his partner an affectionate squeeze and nodded. “Yeah, Lew, I am.”

The weight of Dick's gaze was impressive and familiar. As he settled under it, Lew waited for the onslaught of panic, for the decades of commitment issues and fear of domesticity to crush him. He waited for the nausea and the anxiety to smack into him like a cement truck and bring him to his knees—or send him running.

But it never came.

It was just him and Dick standing on a sidewalk in the middle of a quaint little Pennsylvania suburb. Surprisingly, he was okay.

“You bought us a house.”

“I bought us a house.”

“For us to live in. Together. In the suburbs.”

Dick smiled softly. “Don't forget the dog.”

And Lew couldn't help but beam at that. “Of course, the dog.”

 

_ Two Years Later:  _

 

“I can't believe I let you talk me into this,” growled Lew petulantly, arms crossed over his chest as he surveyed the backyard of their suburban home. “This is a shit show.” 

Dick sighed. “Its fine, Lew.”

“No, its not fine, Dick. Look at this place!” He flung his arms wide to gesture to the aforementioned damage. “Its a mess! This— _ this— _ is why we have the reunion at Ron and Lip's house every year.”

“Exactly, Lew. Every year, we have it at their place. Don't you think it was our turn?” 

Dick's gentle tone and points of reason did nothing to assuage his irate partner. When Lew faced him, it was with a pointed finger and a sharp brow. “Never again, do you hear me? Next year, and the year after that, and on into infinity, these damn things will be at their place, you got it?” 

As Lew stomped away, retreating, no doubt, to his study for a tumbler of the ole Vat 69, Dick grinned and muttered, “And folks think  _ I'm  _ the neat freak.” 

 


End file.
